


Rescue.

by cuddlepuss



Category: Frank Iero - Fandom, Gerard Way - Fandom, Mikey Way - Fandom, My Chemical Romance, ray toro - Fandom
Genre: Assault, Gen, Hospital, Multi, Rescue, Surgery, heroics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5189861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlepuss/pseuds/cuddlepuss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walking home from work, the reader (oc), sees a stranger being mugged, and intervenes. What happens after though? And how is the .....situation resolved?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a contest - only my third ever - with the incredibly helpful prompt 'Anything'.
> 
> Somehow I still managed to pull in second.

As I walked home through the twilit streets, listening to evanescence, I turned a corner and came to an abrupt halt. There,   
on the pavement in front of me, was a man. Tall, thin, but not skinny, he had a big afro, and amazing, gorgeous brown eyes, he  
also had 3 large men pinning him down, kicking the proverbial shit out of him.

 

"Hey," I shouted, Running forward, "What the fuck are you doing?" Looking up at me, I could see blood on their faces, and   
blank expressions in their eyes. Yanking on my personal alarm - something I seldom bother to carry - I let the piercing,   
ear splitting shriek fill the early morning air. The loud electronic sound seemed to snap them out of it, and they scattered   
in all directions, like pigeons scared by a small child.

Going closer, I could see some nasty looking injuries on the guy's face, multiple lacerations, and contusions, including   
one that looked really deep, running from outside of his right eye, down and slightly left, to the outer edge of his mouth,   
maybe seven to ten cms long, and right down to the bone in places. Fuck that was really bad! and it was bleeding like a stuck pig.

Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, and my hanky from another, I pressed the material to the tear whilst calling the emergency   
services. Murmuring softly between conversation with the operator, I tried to comfort the guy. Finishing the call, I turned all my   
attention to the man in front of me,and found myself drowning in confused chocolate coloured pools. Working as efficiently as I could,   
and keeping up a steady flow of questions, just simple ones, his name, where he was from, what he was doing there, etc.

I wasn't just being nosey, I knew enough of first aid to know that he HAD to stay conscious, because head injuries need special   
care, and if he DID slip into a coma, anything that I could tell the medics would be helpful.Doing what little I could to make him   
comfy, and cursing myself for not having my first aid kit on me, I tried to distract him from what I was doing.

He was called Ray, and he was with an American rock group, what he was doing in Devon, the UK, I didn't know, or care at the moment,  
all that mattered was getting him the help he needed, and keeping him awake. Mustn't sleep, and I was frantically trying to stop the bleeding.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With relief, I took his hand and told him that the medics were here. BIG mistake, Ray took a death grip on my hand, a grip that only  
got tighter when the ambulance men, and police, asked first me, then him, if I could move away so they could treat him, and interview me.  
Ray wasn't letting go though, his grip getting painfully tight as they tried to convince him to let go of my hand, which he wouldn't.

Reluctantly, they let me stay with him, working around me as they tried to treat him, and it was my voice that calmed him as they worked,  
my hand he crushed in his as they loaded him into the ambulance for the ride to hospital, my fingers that almost broke as they wheeled him   
into the emergency department, and tried, once more, to separate his fingers from mine, and I cried out with pain as he convulsively clutched   
them even tighter. 

They, also, came to the conclusion that they would have to work around me. Embarrassed, and trying to disappear into the wall, I hovered at   
his side, horribly aware of the speculative glances from the staff,and hideously aware of my dishevelled state. Telling them what I could   
remember of what Ray had told me, My fingers were numb by this time, it was over half an hour since I'd so innocently taken his hand to comfort   
him as the medics arrived, and you could hear my bones cracking and creaking with each successive attempt to remove his fingers from mine.

It was apparent that Ray would need surgery for the wound on his face, and also obvious that he had no intention of letting me go. Suddenly,  
I had an idea, and asked Ray where he was supposed to be. Looking confused, and slightly scared, he said that the bus would have moved on by now,  
which confused ME, for a moment, until I figured he meant the TOUR bus, his band must be doing a set of appearances in this country. Rapidly asking   
for a way to contact them, he mumbled a number, and I saw a nurse scribble it down, and make off with it, to report the contact details to the police.

Asking for the contact details had brought Ray's mind back to the situation at hand, and his hand tightened even more on mine, making him frown   
when I moaned in pain. It seemed almost as if he wasn't aware that he held my fingers oh so tightly, and, when I cried out,he genuinely seemed surprised.  
As I raised up our joined hands for him to see how tight he held my fingers, he scowled, and, with a look of concentration on his face, tried to let go,  
and couldn't.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the doctor came back, I asked if it was possible that Ray had nerve damage, as, despite concentrated effort, he couldn't release my fingers,   
and hadn't even been aware that he was holding them. Looking troubled, the doctor took our joined hands, with me trying to swallow down the cry of   
pain that the move brought, and checked for reflexes, which were practically absent. Great, now what? 

What turned out to be a group of four of possibly the best looking men I had ever seen. Arriving like a bunch of human hurricanes, shouting concerned   
questions, they tried to push me out of the way, making me scream, and almost pass out from the agony in my fingers, the quietest of them catching me as I   
toppled sideways, toward Ray on the bed.  
.  
The doctor came in to see what all the fuss was, disturbing his emergency room, and when he saw that they had hold of me, he insisted that I be released   
into a chair, that I'd done quite enough to help, without risking any further injury at their hands. That, naturally, confused them, and he, quietly, but   
forcefully, with the help of the police officer there, explained about my rescue of, caring for, and now, entrapment by, their friend. Pointing to our   
linked hands, he asked if it was a 'normal' looking hand hold. Looking to Ray for confirmation, he continued that there appeared to be nerve damage to   
Ray's arm, and that MY hand, as well as his, was now at risk of permanent damage, and pulling, or pushing either of us could worsen the damage. The one   
that had caught me, Mikey, I later learned, smiled down at me, while the others looked either at the man on the bed, the doctor, or their feet.

Ray, beckoning his other hand to one of them, whispered something that I didn't hear, grimaced a smile, and looked over to where I was now sat. The   
one he spoke to turned, unhappily, to me, and said "Ray says that, If not for you, he may well be dead by now, and that, if either of us..ahem.. clowns..  
hurts you again, we'll have him to answer to. But, goddamnit, what the fuck were you doing out at that time of day? four thirty in the morning, what   
are you a 'working' girl or something?"

Giggling quietly to myself, fully aware of what kind of work he meant, I said "Yes, I live not too far from where I found Ray being attacked".   
Then I spoilt it by going off into gales of laughter at the looks on their faces, before explaining my job, and the hours I keep for it. The faces   
cleared of the expressions of distaste, switching to ones of concern at Ray's frantic signalling, leaning in close again, the older man listened   
carefully, before saying "Ray now wants to know, why you were on foot in that particular part of town, at that time of night."

That wiped the smile off my face, and looking down at my feet, I muttered something inaudible. Looking concerned now, the shorter one came and   
put a hand on my arm, and, with a kind smile, asked what I'd said. Tears filling my eyes, I just shook my head, before looking down at the floor again.  
The fourth man made a move then, coming to crouch in front of me, pointing out that Ray was getting concerned at my none answers, and that they wouldn't   
tell anyone.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
With a loud sniff, and a watery smile, I stood, and leaning into Ray, I whispered to him what the problem was. Immediate concern clouded his wonderful  
eyes, and, with his spare hand, despite his injuries, he tried to wrap his arm around my shoulders. Laying a hand gently, but firmly onto his arm, I   
pushed it back onto the bed, so he again gestured for the other man to come forward, this time, pointing to me, and signing that I needed a hug. With a   
sigh, and a look of incomprehension, he came over, and wrapped an arm casually about my shoulder, earning him a scowl for Ray, and a round of glares   
from the others. Truly, if that was his idea of comfort, I didn't think much of it, and nor, apparently, did his band mates, the one that had caught me   
telling him to get out of the way, and coming in to hug me himself.

Mean time, Ray had been whispering to the shorter one, and he stepped around the others to come to me, and introduce everyone. "Hello, I'm Frank,   
that's Jarod, Gerard, and Mikey." He pointed to each man in turn as he said the name. I introduced myself, and, taking a deep breath, and my courage   
in both hands, said "Pleased to meet you all. I was saying to Ray that I was walking home from work as my husband, and our only driver, died a year ago   
tonight. That's why he wanted me hugged."  
A chorus of dismay ran through the room as the guys took in what I had just said, even Gerard, the one reluctant to hold me one, was slightly aghast, and   
looking at his feet, instead of staring at me, as he had been, and the arm about my shoulders tightened, and I was on the receiving end of looks of sympathy.  
At that, a team of doctor's and specialists arrived, and the men were shepherded out.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Two long, pain-filled hours later, and my hand was finally freed from Ray's. It had taken intensive manipulation of poor Ray's hurt arm muscles to finally  
get the damaged nerves to release, and now the race was on to try to save the blood supply in the arms of BOTH of us. As Ray was a professional musician,  
evidently quite well known, world wide, and I was just a care assistant, I insisted they saw to him first, hiding the fact that, even free, I still couldn't   
feel my fingers. As Ray was treated, Mikey stopped with me for a while to talk, just talk, and it was he who noticed my discomfort. Dashing off to get the   
doctor back to me, he reminded me, a little, of my late husband, which made my cry again. He came barrelling back in at a run, only to skid to a halt at the   
sight of my crying. Swearing fluently, if softly, he came over and once more wrapped his arms around me. The doctor, examining my arm and hand, saw something  
that made him curse viscously under his breath, and yell out loud for the surgical registrar to get there, stat.

Suddenly fearful, I looked wide eyed at Mikey, and, closing my eyes again, flopped back onto the pillow of the bed they'd put me into by now. Mikey,   
taking in my pale, frightened face, and shaky composure, swore again, and, when the doctor asked him to leave, went with obvious reluctance, and made the  
doctor swear to fetch him the minute he could come back in.

Testing MY reflexes this time, and muttering under his breath the consultant , looking grim, said that, evidently damage had been done to my shoulder   
joint, and it was a questionable thing as to whether or not they could repair the damage. Great, fan - fucking - tastic. Now what was I going to do? I   
couldn't do my job as a care assistant with only one arm, and I wasn't trained for anything else, so what was I going to do now? 

Just then, the doctor came in to say Ray was asking to see me, he was out of surgery, and had his band mates with him. The surgeon told him I was   
just going to theatre myself, and that Ray would just have to wait. I begged to be allowed to see him for just a couple of minutes first, as he didn't   
know of the severity of my injuries, and I wanted to tell him myself. Scowling, the surgeon said five minutes maximum, as with every minute wasted it became   
less and less likely that I would recover much use in my arm. Put into a wheelchair, the nurse took me to see Ray, to tell him of my own injuries and need   
for surgery.

That meeting didn't go well. The band, gathered round him, were celebrating the news that he should, with physio, make a full recovery, then I arrived, in a   
wheelchair, already in operating robes under a hospital dressing gown. The mood in the recovery room fell through the floor on my arrival. Mikey, instantly,   
said "What is it? What's wrong? You weren't wearing those robes when I left you half an hour ago, what's going on?" As he said this, a hush fell over the   
rest of them, and when I said that I was off to theatre myself, to try to repair the damage to my shoulder, the silence was deafening. Frank, the shorter one,  
coming over to stand in front of me, said "You knew, didn't you? When you sent Ray off first, you knew that there was something wrong with you as well?"  
It was more of a statement than a question, but I answered anyway. "Yes, that's to say, I knew my arm was still numb, and that it wasn't getting better,   
but that's all. Did I know it might be permanent? No. Would I have done the same if I had? Probably. I have to go now, the longer I wait, the less likely   
it is that they can repair the damage." And, leaving a stunned silence behind me, I had the nurse wheel me away.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
As we left, I heard a shout, someone calling my name, and, with a deep sigh, I turned my head, and was astonished to see Gerard there behind me. What did   
he want now? With a completely unexpected move, he landed at my feet, and took my hands in his, not thinking of the possible damage he might inflict with his   
grasp, until the nurse sharply reminded him that I needed surgery now, if I was to stand any hope of recovery. Looking shaken, he let me go with a murmured   
thank you.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
When I came out of theatre, I was astounded to find that the whole band, Ray included, were gathered around my bed as I came to. For a while I couldn't  
figure who they were, or why they were there. When it came back to me who they were, I just gawped, why were they still hanging around? Hadn't I done enough   
yet? At my puzzled look, Mikey came over, and explained that they wanted to know how the operation had gone. Swallowing hard, I just shook my   
head, I didn't know, and didn't much care.

The surgeon came in, looking anything but happy to find the guys there already, and asked them to leave, so that he could talk about my case with me. With  
a look that said 'MAKE US', they held their places, refusing to move, and, with a sigh, the surgeon asked if I minded if they stayed, taking my good hand in his,  
Mikey said a very soulful please, turning on huge puppy dog eyes, and I found that I couldn't say no.

Hefting a sigh, the surgeon admitted that the damage was extreme, and there was little, if any, chance of full use returning, even partial use being   
questionable at that time, but confessed himself confused, as any grip on the hand, no matter how tight, SHOULDN'T do that kind of injury, that it was more   
usually attributed to a wrenching injury, such as being in a car accident. The band went silent, and all of them turned to look at Gerard, almost as if   
waiting for him to say something. Looking downcast, Gerard murmured a question, which I didn't catch, nor did the surgeon.

Flushing furiously, Gerard repeated his question "Could it have been caused by someone trying to forcibly move her while Ray had a locked grip on her hand?"  
A look of dawning understanding rose in the surgeon's face, and he uttered an affirmative, asking if someone had tried to push me out of the way before finding   
that I couldn't move. With a face brighter red than his hair ever has been, Gerard nodded, and whispered "Yeah, me." Then, looking straight at me, for the   
first time since I came to, he said "I'm sorry, I didn't know who you were, or that you were stuck. You looked like one of the usual fan's, taking advantage of   
Ray's being here. I didn't mean to hurt you, never mind this seriously. I'm sorry."

I didn't know what to say.I knew that he didn't mean to hurt me, that he hadn't known, but I was still hurt, and there was no knowing at the moment if I would  
recover. Thinking hard, I hardly heard Ray's somewhat raspy voice, demanding to know what he thought he'd been doing. Had he or had he not been told by the police  
that his rescuer was still with him at the hospital, in an unbreakable grip? - That caught my attention, because we'd been told that they knew about that when   
they were first contacted. If possible, Gerard looked even more embarrassed, and admitted that, hearing how a lone walker had chased off three men, he had assumed   
it to be a man, and so when he came upon a woman holding Ray's hand, he thought that the hold must have been broken, and that I was a fan, taking advantage. Ray  
looked outraged, Mikey astounded, while Frank and Jarod just looked slightly comfy, as if the same thought had occurred to them.

Finally taking in what was being said, I answered "Gerard, Gerard, are you now convinced that I'm not some obsessive stalker? That I did, in fact, rescue Ray,  
before he was too badly injured? Am, in fact, innocent of your insulting beliefs?"  
"God, yes. I don't know how come I was so stupid in the first place. I can only repeat my apology, and, in the circumstances, that just isn't enough. You   
could be disabled for life because of me." 

Sighing deeply, and looking anywhere but at him, or anyone else, I took another deep breath, and let it go, saying "Then let's say nothing more, after all, you   
thought you were protecting a friend from who knows what."  
Gerard, looking seriously bewildered, said "But, but you're so hurt! How can you just let it go? I deserve to be shot for harming you, after all you did for Ray,   
and the band. I can't just let it go at that, something's got to be done, you may never work again!"

Ray piped up, "Gerard, I think you need to shut up now! Can't you see you're upsetting her? Must you be told? Look at her, she knows all that! Let's think of   
what can be done, instead of just running off guilty mouths, shall we? We know nothing of Her situation after all, there MAY be a way to help if we let her think!"

Mikey chipped in with "Gerard, I know you didn't mean to hurt her, we all do. However, lecturing on your guilt won't get anything done, let's find out what   
PRACTICAL steps can be taken to help."

Realising that they were set to continue arguing, I said, loudly, "So, Mr Gardiner, how did the operation go? What does the future seem to hold at the moment?  
What use am I likely to regain?"

That brought them all back to the here and now with a bump, and, as Mr Gardiner took a deep breath, silence fell. "Well, it looks as though, in the short term,   
there won't be much improvement at all. But, with the appropriate therapies, over the coming years, you may get as much as thirty to thirty five percent movement   
back, but it will take a long time, and is going to hurt a great deal. I'm sorry, there really was nothing more we could do." And, with a last look at the group   
of us, he left.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Silence. Complete, deafening silence. So profound, it made you want to record it for posterity. Then, with a loud rasping sob, Gerard was on his knee's by the   
bed, my good hand clasped uncomfortably tight in his. His head went down on our joined hands, and he wept, harsh, tearing sobs that tore right through you at the   
despair and heart break in them.

Looking around the others, trying to find someone to help comfort him, no-one would meet my gaze, that's when I twigged that they all blamed him. Taking a very   
deep breath, and digging in deep inside myself, I used his hold on my hand to prise myself up the bed, to reach over for him, to comfort him myself when no one   
else would. Looking daggers at the other four men, my arm draped awkwardly around Gerard's shoulder, I glared at them, murmuring to Gerard that it was alright,   
things would work out, he'd see, that I bore him no ill will, and I could understand the mistake, and may have made it myself, if the situation were reversed.

Frowning at Gerard's 'friends', grown men who would let him suffer like this, I spoke, to Gerard, but at them, "Anyone could have made the same mistake, it   
was only an accident. You wouldn't have done it if you'd known what would happen. So I don't think we can find you guilty of anything except trying to protect a   
friend from a possible threat. I could use a friend like you. Please, won't you sit here, beside me, and calm down?"

Sniffling and gasping, he raised a red, sodden face to mine, and with a look of disbelief on his face, asked what kind of saint I was, to forgive the   
unforgivable. With a gentle tug on his hand, and a scowl to his bandmates, all watching in silence, even his brother, I replied "Why is it so unforgivable? What   
were you trying to do, after all, that anyone of us might not do in the same circumstances? Are the rest of us, here gathered, such plaster gods and saints that   
we've never made a mistake, an error in judgement? Fie on all those liars! For liars they must be, to claim complete innocence of misdeeds. I won't and don't   
believe it. Nor do I associate with liars. You all, save Gerard, can go, if you can't tell the truth! Go, now!"

 

Startled looks, and disgruntled murmurs broke out among the others as my words sank in. Unwelcome the message that I wouldn't see them if they did not own up to   
being human. A look of resignation on his face, Ray was the first to speak "Yeah, I suppose she's right. If it had been as you thought, I would now be complaining   
that you all didn't care enough to help when I needed it. I'm sorry Gee, I'm being an idiot." 

 

Mikey was next "True, I didn't think of it from that perspective, but it's one that bears thinking about. I'm sorry too Gerard. I love you bro." And coming over  
hugged his brother.

Then it was Frank's turn. "I CAN understand why you thought as you did, Gerard, but, you really shouldn't have done it. Just look at her now. Years of therapy,   
Who know's how much pain, and no way to earn a living. We still have to do something." I looked at him, angry, but before I could say anything, Jarod stepped  
up to him, took him by the shoulder, and whispered something into his ear. I don't know what he said, but Frank shot me a look of urgent appeal, came forward,  
and pulled Gerard into a loose hug, which he really seemed to appreciate. Jarod, now himself looking at me, shuffled his feet and muttered a sorry. I smiled at   
them, to let them know I was happy with them all again.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Then, for some reason, something made me look at Mikey, I don't know what, but, looking, I found him staring at me in a most peculiar way. almost as if I'd   
grown a second head or something. As I looked, I came to the conclusion he was thinking of something, and wasn't really looking at me at all. Speaking up, I said   
the first thing that popped into my head "So, where and when is the next gig?" That got a reaction, from all of them. Without stopping to think, Ray said "Tonight,   
over in Wemworthy." Mikey said "Shit, we gotta cancel, you can't play!" Frank Opened and closed his mouth like a fish, before muttering something inaudible and   
shutting up again. Gerard said "For fuck's sake, who cares. This is more important." And Jarod, well, he looked blank, swore violently, said curtly "I'll be right   
back" and disappeared out the door. Half an hour later Jarod was back, and he wasn't alone. With him was someone the lads greeted by name. I didn't know who it   
was, so I figured it to be band business, and shut my eyes to get a nap. Only for a gentle hand on mine, and a quiet cough to send my eyelids flying up again.

 

Gerard spoke "This is John, he's from the band's record label, and needs to talk to you about the publicity angle of this whole mess." The man, tall and skinny   
as he was, looked down his nose at me, and, with a slightly disparaging inclination of his head, said "Now, miss, what are you intending to do about your injury? I  
must warn you that the band's lawyers would frown at a lawsuit brought against a member when acting in defence of his bandmates".

There was a horrified silence as we all took onboard what had just been said, then, with a loud eruption of voices, all five men from the band started to argue the   
toss with the record label's 'agent', voices raised one over the other in a bid to be heard. With an impatient sigh I tugged on Mikey's sleeve, and he called for quiet.

Looking as patient as possible, and desperately wanting to hit the guy, I said "Now, Mr....? Shall I tell you what I've already told the guys? Would you like to hear?  
Or did you come to insult me? Because that's what you've just done, in the most profound way possible." Looking from man to man, I was suddenly exhausted, utterly spent,   
and incapable of talking to the man they called friend. I said, "Frank? can you tell him? I'm shattered, it's only four hours since I had major surgery, and, quite   
honestly, I need to sleep." Waiting only for Frank to nod, I slid down in the bed and knew no more.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later, when I awoke they were all gone, save for Ray, who was sitting, slumped in the chair, snoring gently. As I sat up, he woke with a start, and, looking   
around, smiled at me when he saw me awake. Then his smile faded like frost in the summer sun, and a look of quiet remorse filled his face. With a deep, heart felt   
sigh, he took my hand, and, said "Hi, how you feeling now? The guy's had to go back to the bus, to meet with the record label team, to decide what to do about the   
tour. I wasn't let out of here anyway, and we didn't want to leave you alone, so Gerard arranged to have me moved into the room next door. That way, if you need   
anything, I can organise the guy's to bring it in. Listen, we know nothing about you, where do you live? Do you live alone? Who's your next of kin? Sorry, but   
the police are starting to push for answers, and we can't hold them off any longer."

I sat up, and with a groan, and hefted a massive sigh. It was time to admit, to myself, as well as the others, just what, & who I was. This was going to suck,   
big time.

"Ray", I said, quietly, "I think you'd better get the guy's and cops here. I can only go through this once. I need to tell you all who I am." And, looking at   
the floor, I listened to what he did next. What I hadn't expected was that he'd take my hand in his, our good hands, and I sneaked a furtive look at our joined   
hands. Taking a deep breath, and letting it out through his nose, Ray murmured something under his breath. Then, patting my hand, he left the room.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, and I had quite a gathering around the bed. I had been washed and put into a fresh gown, and some spare chairs had been clustered around the   
side room I had been put into. As people gathered, I took a deep, calming breath, and tried to relax. When everyone was settled, I cleared my throat, and said "Hello,  
everyone, thank you for coming. Mr...? John, you can go, what I have to say has nothing to do with you, and comes under the heading of private. Officer, could you   
make sure that he leaves."

When the officer came back, I resumed "Alright, now, I'll get right down to it, then you can all leave me be. I WAS going home from work, last night, and yes, my job IS   
a care assistant, but you don't have to feel bad about my not being able to work, due to this. I was made redundant due to the company going bust yesterday. My last   
shift was literally my last shift. From today, I need to get onto the dole. My family? I have none. I was abandoned as a baby on the steps of a church, twenty eight   
years ago, I don't know my real name, my real date of birth, or who my family were. I have no family, no name, and no future, no one to worry about what has happened.  
Now, if you all don't mind, I'm in some discomfort, and would like to take a rest." Not expecting any response, save the room to empty, I snuggled down in the bed,   
and let the tears fall.

So when a hand rested on my shoulder, I nearly jumped out of my skin, and rolled over to see who it was. Unknown to me, as the police filed out, the band had   
gathered, ever closer, around the bed. It was Mikey who'd caught my shoulder, a look of gentle concern laid bare on his face, and it tore my frail composure to shreds.  
Muttering soft reassurances, he closed his arms gently around me, carefully tugging me into a warm, soft embrace. Jarod just stood, staring at his feet, while the others  
muttered to each other in voices so quiet, I couldn't hear them from just a few feet away. Then, with a flurry of nods and back slapping, they came over, and, with   
huge grins on their faces, Ray announced "Well, that's that decided. You come home with us, we take you on in some sort of job with the band, and we organise your  
treatment. Problem's all solved."

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I stared, stunned, at the three men, while they stood smirking happily at each other, well pleased with their planning. They might have been, but I wasn't. I   
stiffened in Mikey's arms, struggling to sit, and said "Well, thank you, I think. It's nice of you to try to organise my future for me, but it's unnecessary, I've   
been looking after myself for ten years, and I do a damn good job. So I thank you for your kindness, but with regret, I must refuse."

Looking upset, Frank, Gerard and Ray made their way across to the bed, and, kneeling on the floor, save Ray, who sat beside my feet, they looked at one another,   
bemused, leaving Mikey to say "I don't think they meant to imply that you couldn't, but we do owe you. You saved Ray, and got ... handicapped, dammit, in the process.  
We NEED to make it up to you, even if you don't need us. Please, won't you at least come out for a while? Please?"

I rolled my eyes at his reverse logic, able to see all to easily, and thought it sweet that he would try to fool me into going, as a favour to them.However, that   
didn't mean that I was going to go. "Mikey, you're very sweet, all of you, but I did nothing for Ray that I wouldn't for anyone in that situation, so talk of debts is   
ridiculous. You might as well say that I owe the policeman for getting rid of John. I cannot, will not, take advantage of an accident. So no, I won't go. Thank you just   
the same.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They wouldn't give up, kept pounding away at me every time one of them came to see me, which was just about constantly, no sooner would one leave, then another   
would be 'passing by'. Over the next week, they must have come up with at least ten propositions a day. They didn't interest me with their deals, but with one thing,  
a growing attraction to Mikey. It was bizarre, almost as if I'd known him my whole life. All my twenty eight years leading up to this. On the eighth day in hospital,  
Mikey came in looking serious, saying that the order to go back to the states. They had two more days, and he wouldn't leave without me. If I wouldn't go to the States,   
he would stay in the UK, with me. I just looked at him, my mouth hanging open, as he sank to one knee, and asking me to marry him.

 

I said "Yes".

 

THE END


End file.
